The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1887-04-15
LITTLE JACOPO:
Or the Beautiful Child Of the New
Year.

Year.
In the autumn of 1880 [ was spend
ing few weeks at the Hotel Christol in
Boulogne-sur-Mer, which is but short
distance by rail from Calais. This sea-
side resort is a favorite place for both
French and English invalids, because
the air is generally fresh and well
charged with that indescribable but
perfectly well understood invigorating
element called ozone. The town is
well sheltered from atmospheric vio-
lence, for on one side the tall cliffs of
Boulogne frOwn down upon the waters
of the English Channel that chafe and
thrash and thunder at their feet con-
tinually; on the other side she is
equally well sheltered by the old town
of Boulogne called afiectionately by
every Boulognese the "Haute Ville,"
because it is the high town, as COM
pared with the bathing place--the Bas
Villc-which, five hundred feet be-
meath, has within comparatively few
number of years stretched itself along
the sides of the sluggish and dirty
stream which is dignified by the title
of the River Lame, and runs through
the center of Boulogno until it escapes
into the English Channel through
an opening in the white cliffs.
There is very little in the Bas
Vile that is of interest to a visitor
except the Establishment de Mer,
large building and garden at the
northern end of the town which are
sacred to the pleasures of the elite.
There they dance, promenade, firt,
play billiards, battle, or spend hours in
the luxurious reading room, perusing
the journals of all parts of the civilized
world. Boulogne contains hundreds
of English gentlemen who have found
it mighty convenient to quit their
native soil, and these generally find
themselves forced to take to gambling
for a bare living, or to the depths of
the Liane when bad luck has utterly
broken them down.
{ II so happened that at the period of
my visit to Boulogne the weather was
almost continually bad. The rain fell,
the chill and damp winds swept dis
agreeable through the streets, and
every body seemed to be on the verge
of dying of ennui. |, with others, was
one day fattening my nose against the
hotel window panes of the general re-
ception room, watching tho shipping
on the Lame or the blue-bloused
ouvricrs as they clattered in their
sabots through the splashing streets.
Suddenly the clouds broke up and the
sun shone brilliantly. Shortly after
wards a crowd of men and women APP
preached the hotel across the LANES
swinging bridge. They were evidently
In state of excitement, and the OBJ
ject of their excitement seemed to be
an their midst, for the women, men
and children ceased their chattering
every few moments to east their eyes
down or to point their finger at some
thing or somebody that was moving
along in the center. The procession
of enthusiasts moved on until they
came to the quay. Then they turned
to the left and disappeared in the
Halle DIES Possons. All | could OBJ
serve in the midst of this picturesque
crowd was Il little boy, probably ten
years of age, who walked with his eyes
fixed steadily before him as if he were
totally unconscious of any thing
unusual going on around him. His
face, which was very regular, pale
and beautiful, struck me as being
somewhat unearthly--as if it were
tinged by some influence from Heaven
or that mysterious Other Land which
no man can describe, although regard
ing it he may have thousand fantastic
and unstable fancies.
"What ingular-looking childm lex
claimed to French gentleman stand
ing next to ne at the window. "The
poor boy is evidently insane"
Pardon me, monsieur. my com
panion replied; "the child is not in
sane. This is little Jacopo, le fills du
jour dc Faa,' who is positively adored
by the poorer classes in this part of the
country"
The child of the New Year." ex-
claimed, translating my friends re-
mark. "What a singular name. What
does it all mean?"
Come with me" sad my compan-
ion. Wen proceed, il you please, to
the fish market, where, no doubt, you
will find the fishwomen bowling and
dancing and throwing flowers on little
y Acopo."
We proceeded to the Halle DIES Pois-
sons
The sight that met my eyes was
something it would be very difficult to
forget. There stood the strange child.
with the pure white hair in the center
of group of excited men and women,
whose bare arms showed that they had
just left their stalls. They were throw
ing flowers ut him and praising him in
extravagant terms. He, all the time,
took no notice of them, but kept gaz-
ing before him, and every few minutes
exclaiming in kind of ecstacy:
"Claire! ma Clare!" His dress was
singularly neat, but of colorless white,
while his long hair fell over his shout
ders untrameled by cap of any kind.
THAT boy" said my friend, 'has a
wonderful story in connection with his
short life, and these poor people look
upon his presence among them as a
good omen, At this moment they are